Comfort in the Dark
by AboardAMoose
Summary: Kili is young and somewhat overwhelmed on the journey. Thorin offers him somewhere to be safe. Vague reference to incest, but pretty gen. Warning for depressive thoughts.


**Warning: **References to incest, and descriptions of moderately depressive thoughts.

**A/N: **This is a little short, angsty and rambling, and not quite what you asked for, but I hope it's ok?

Though Thorin's standoffish ways were, to outsiders, daunting, to those precious few he took into his heart, there was no greater friend in times of need. Though the knowledge remained silent, unspoken, they knew he knew them well, though they knew him little at all.

Thorin knew how Bofur feared for his brothers when Bifur worsened with his injury, and when Bombur grew breathless.

He knew that Ori was no warrior, but savoured the small words of praise he received for his sketches above any feat of valour Dwalin or his like could perform.

And he knew when Kíli flinched from his thoughts at the rowdiness of the others, and offered only half-hearted laughter, it was because the darkness was swelling up on him. That was something he could make efforts to correct, and for Kíli, of all the dwarves he would think of as his friends, he would do so.

A nod to Gandalf had the Wizard suggesting, "Perhaps it's time to stamp the fires out if we want to set off at a good pace in the morning?"

"Does the great Wizard suggest that some of our number are less than agile come the dawn?" Glóin demanded, looking at his brother pointedly.

"What did he say?" Óin asked, scrambling for his trumpet.

"Nothing, nothing, only that he was tired," replied Bofur.

As the dwarves headed towards their beds, Glóin grumbled, "I could go without sleep for as long as I want," and Gandalf chuckled at it.

When most of the group were occupied with preparations and bickering, Thorin took Kíli aside by the elbow, and whispered to him, "Come away tonight, lay with me."

"Not tonight, Thorin," Kíli pleaded. "Glóin may claim he is able to go a week without a nap, but I can not."

"Do not doubt me," was Thorin's only reply.

000

Kíli waited until Fíli was asleep before he escaped. Should the others be awake, they would assume he was leaving to relieve himself, but Fíli would worry if his brother was gone for too long.

When they were able, the company afforded Thorin as much privacy as they could, as was only right, so Kíli had to sneak away a short distance. Although he approached the glade their Prince rested in as quietly as he could, Thorin's eyes opened as he was feet away, flashing in the embers of a burnt out fire.

Though Thorin did not speak, he offered up a shadow of a smile. He was glad Kíli had come.

Kíli hovered just outside of his Uncle's reach, and asked, "Why did you ask me here tonight? I am tired."

"But you would not have slept, with all those thoughts running through that over-active mind of yours," Thorin replied, not a question, just a statement of fact, brooking no argument.

"I am tired," was all Kíli would repeat.

"And I am not a fool." Thorin patted the thick fur that lined his cloak, and persisted, "Lie here for tonight. I do not ask more of that from you."

"But why would you wish-?"

"Because I asked you to." There was a shadow of impatience there, and so, a little hesitant, Kíli moved close, and lay beside Thorin. A strong arm, a pillar of muscle, wound around his waist, and pulled him close against a hard, warm chest.

"Why are you doing this?" he repeated, in a whisper.

There was a long pause, before Thorin replied in a voice that sounded as if it came from far away. "You are not alone in the despair that I have seen take you some nights. We all have dark places in our minds. We have all visited them to some extent or other." He stroked a broad hand lightly up and down Kíli's side. "One cannot always break from it, but warmth helps one to do so, as does sleep."

The quiet words made Kíli sigh, but he was quiet for a long moment, processing what he had heard. It sounded like... Thorin... But Thorin would never worry and fret, get silly and allow emotions to rule him. Only Kíli was pathetic enough to do that.

The seemingly never-ending self-depreciation raged inside him. He didn't need another to put him down. It was like this... so many nights, though he lumbered along well enough most days. There was something about the dark...

Thorin lay in silence, as if doing nothing more than watching the stars like some mild-mannered, love-lorn elf, but the gentle rub of his thumb on Kíli's arm assured the younger dwarf that he was still awake. Eventually, in a voice that was halting, Kíli spoke a fraction of the words that had been whirring in his mind, beating in his skull, desperate to break free. "I feel far away sometimes. When all the others joke and jostle, I can not always enjoy their company. It is like looking at them through a pane of glass, unable to care for their humour."

"You are far away from home, you are young, and the weight on your shoulders is great," Thorin observed. "There is no shame in those thoughts of yours. But you will get through them." Though he did not say the words, Kíli felt 'I'm here' echoing in his mind. Thorin was at his side, supporting him, and he was safe there, from the creatures inside and out.

All at once, Kíli turned and pressed into Thorin's chest. Thorin "hmphed" with surprise, but wrapped his arms entirely around his nephew, tight and firm, solid comfort. A tug wrapped his cloak more firmly around the younger dwarf, bringing him warmth as well.

A small, muffled voice, told Thorin, "I can't always see the end of this journey. What we fight and struggle for. How is this... this... how is it worth it?" There was such frustration there.

"Were I to list the reasons, would your mind allow you to listen at this time? For I know you know them still, for you have not left." Kíli was silent, wrapped in his thoughts, and after a minute, Thorin asked, "Shall I tell you of the tales of the halls of my father, as I did when you were young before you slept? Perhaps it will remind you of the chance we fight for."

A slight nod was the most of an answer Thorin was going to get, and so he laid back against the furs, getting comfortable with the warm, heavy weight upon his chest, and began to speak of what he remembered. Long into the night, he spoke, and soothed and distracted Kíli with his rumbling words, until, finally, he found his nephew's eyes were no longer caught in a dull, distant gaze, but closed in sleep. Only then did he stop speaking, and allow himself to sleep, lulled by the rhythmic breathing of one he had brought comfort to, if only for one night.


End file.
